Chapter Text
Training day with Ignis is always an exercise in stamina rather than brute strength.
Noctis dances backward and shifts his stance. He lifts his arms just in time to parry a blow from Ignis' polearm and shoves backward with all the force he can muster. The momentum is enough to send Iggy back a few steps. But in the seconds between the blow and his recovery, the lance in his hands explodes into shards of glittering blue, and he vaults forward, daggers in hand.
Giving ground again, Noct twists out of the way and shoots his engine blade across the room, warping away to give himself space to move. Ignis is quick, though, and no sooner does Noct get his bearings than he has to swipe his blade up to meet a blow. The impact zings along the weapon and up into his arm, but he ignores the lingering numbness and twists around to avoid being struck by Iggy's second blade.
"Good!" Ignis praises, grinning.
He doesn't bully like Gladio does. He merely falls away for a moment's reprieve before he attacks again.
The dance goes on, and Noctis falls into the ebb and flow. Ignis, like water, is elegant and agile as he weaves in and out of proximity. It's a dance that requires grace and cunning and always reminds Noct of taking a turn around the ballroom—well, with the exception that it's actually fun . Laughing gleefully, Noct swaps his heavier blade for a lance to match the lightness and maneuverability of Iggy's halberd.
They take numerous turns around the cavernous training hall, trading blows and weaving in and around each other with a grace born of synchronicity. It reminds Noct of when they were kids and used to chase each other around this very room with Cor hot on their heels. By the time Ignis stops to call it quits, Noct is panting and tripping sweat.
Dismissing his weapon, he retrieves his water bottle, then flops down on the floor to rest. The pull in Noct's muscles feels good, unlike the ache he feels after training with a broadsword. Ignis, elegant as ever, carefully sips from his bottle of water. The only indication he's been working up a sweat is the drooping ends of his upswept hair and the flush on his high cheekbones.
"Lovely caper, don't you think?" Ignis asks, amusement coloring his tone.
Grinning where he sits, Noct shakes his head. "Says you."
Laughing, Ignis hauls back the rest of his water and smiles down at Noctis. His green eyes sparkle with something decidedly mischievous, and Noct loves it. In fact, he loves how Iggy looks, hair mussed and chest expanding deeply beneath the snug, soft cotton of his Citadel-Issue training gear. He's softer like this, free from the confines of the crisp suits he wears as armor to face the evils of grubby politicians and sly council members.
And, because it's Ignis, he absolutely knows that Noct is staring. The corner of his mouth quirks, and something knowing flashes in the green of his eyes.
"See something interesting, Highness?"
Noct snorts in amusement, turning away to chug down some water. He only deigns to reply once he's finished most of it.
"Just wondering what you had planned for dinner," Noct replies, hiding his smile in the wide mouth of the water bottle.
Humming thoughtfully, Ignis crouches down just shy of where Noctis sits. He contemplates a moment, then sits back on the springy surface of the training hall floor and stretches out his impossibly long legs.
"Dinner isn't for hours, Noct. You know that." Ignis says, teasing.
This dance, Noct decides, is almost as fun as the one they just had. Admittedly, Iggy is much better at the flirtatious tête-à-têtes than Noct is, but he still likes it. It doesn't even really matter if the flirting is serious or not. Noctis likes it when Ignis acts his age and is not all stuffy and stodgy. It's easier to get him to rough around and actually play .
"Yeah, but you totally need to start it soon. Royal decree." Noct replies, feigning seriousness.
Ignis, playing along, pinches his eyebrows in confusion, then gasps rather theatrically. "Royal Decree? Goodness. It sounds like I simply cannot refuse your thinly veiled attempt to weasel out of the rest of your training session and get me back to your flat. I do hope your intentions are not nefarious."
Of course, the inflection is flat despite the playful glint in Iggy's eyes, which makes the whole thing that much more amusing. Sniggering, Noct can't help himself and reaches out to shove at Ignis merrily.
"Nerd," he says.
Ignis, chuckling softly, scoots closer and leans into Noct's space so that their shoulders bump. It isn't exactly as close as Noct wants to be, but with eyes all over the place, he supposes it's good enough. Sitting quietly is nice, and he grins when he feels Ignis' long pinky finger twist in his own where their hands rest on the floor.
"I suppose we could pack it in a little early," Ignis concedes, arching a brow conspiratorially. "The others won't be done with their day for some time yet, so I was planning a late dinner."
Warmth fills the cavity of Noct's chest. Sure, he doesn't always like training. But that Ignis is willing to finish early, even if it's only by a few minutes, is pretty awesome. He's been stupid busy lately, and honestly, this is the most Noct has seen Ignis all week, apart from their hurried evenings going over Official Business together before Ignis heads home for the night.
Noct hasn't seen any of his friends for most of the week, now that he really thinks about it, and it sucks. Prom's been busy with his training and college courses, and Gladio has been sucked into the void of his duties no thanks to whatever stupid, secretive thing that's been keeping the council holed up in chambers.
And, when Noct hasn't been busy with his own training, he's been caught up with all the petty bullshit that the lesser council has shunted off on him to deal with. And Ignis, as his Chamberlain, gets roped in by default.
It's made the last month or so, rather... Difficult . And lonely.
"Are you coming straight back here once you drop me off?" Noct questions, attempting to parse what 'late dinner' actually means.
Ignis, knowing the real question, smiles fondly and shakes his head. "As a matter of fact, no. My only appointment today was our training session. Would you like me to stay until after dinner?"
Almost, Noct feels guilty. Ignis spends nearly all his time doing things for or with his Prince. Still, Noct misses his friends and selfishly wants a little Iggy time. Not even for anything nefarious, really. Well, nefarious would be fine if Iggy's down. Honestly, Noct just wants a hug. A really long horizontal hug with soft, cozy beds and possibly a nap. And, if he's really lucky, he can get a kiss or seven.
"…Maybe we could just order something when the guys get back? I kinda just want...We haven't gotten to relax and spend time together for a while. It'd be nice to just chill," Noctis hesitantly replies.
Still, Ignis knows exactly what Noct means without saying it. His hand slides over, and he curls his fingers in Noct's, giving them a brief squeeze. His eyes are soft and warm as he smiles.
"That sounds lovely. I can't think of a better way to spend the evening." Ignis replies, gentle and sincere.
Unexpectedly, Noctis feels his face get hot. His insides feel all squirmy in a good way, and his mouth splits into a grin. He's about to tell Ignis he's basically the most fantastic person ever when the door creaks open at the far end of the hall. Curious, they both turn toward the intrusion. Noctis expects it to be Gladio, but when it isn't, dread fills his stomach, making him anxious.
It's Cor, and he's got a look on his face that says this isn't a social visit.
Ignis senses it, too, and his whole demeanor shifts immediately. Flowing lightly up to his feet, he pulls Noctis up as well, and together, they go to meet The Marshal. Thankfully, Ignis knows what question jumps to the forefront of Noct's mind but waits until they are close enough to speak in hushed voices.
"His Majesty?" Ignis asks, voice tight.
It stops Cor in his tracks, and the stern look on his face cracks for a split second. "His?— Ah. He's fine."
Relieved, Noct feels some of the tension go out of his body. But the feeling is short-lived.
"Both of you need to come with me now, though. We don't have much time." Cor says.
Noct trades an uneasy look with Ignis. Worry turns his insides to ice, but he doesn't question the directive. Whatever it is, it is serious enough that he knows better than to waste time. Nodding, he simply follows Cor as they head out of the training hall and down the long corridor of the northeast wing. Noct expects to head up through the main hall once they exit and cross the parade grounds. Instead, Cor leads them to a service entrance and slips into the warren of secret halls and tunnels that run through the Citadel like an ant hill.
The hidden pathways are no secret to Noctis or Ignis. They've used them for ages, especially as children, to sneak in and out of the Citadel. It doesn't take either of them long to realize where they're headed, and the closer they get to the secret door that will lead them into his father's chambers, the more nervous Noctis gets.
There's no good reason Cor would come and fetch them in the middle of a training session. There's no good reason to bring them up through the hidden passages. And, as far as Noctis knows, his Dad is supposed to be cloistered away in the secret proceedings that the council called when some foreign dignitary arrived out of the blue several days ago.
"Steady, Noct," Ignis whispers suddenly.
Blinking, Noctis realizes he's trembling. Ignis' hand on his back does little to soothe the restless, jittery energy, but he finds comfort in the gesture regardless. Offering Iggy a withering half-smile, Noctis hurries to catch up to Cor, who is waiting by the hidden egress with an odd look on his face.
"Highness," Cor begins but pauses abruptly to heave out a sigh. "Please try to remember that your father did his best with a bad situation. The decision was not easily made."
Noct's throat squeezes in on itself. Father . Not Dad. The delineation is noted, and while Noct doesn't understand, he nods stiffly. Swallowing the urge to demand an explanation, he steels himself for whatever fresh hell awaits him. Cor doesn't open the door. He simply steps aside to allow Noctis to do it for himself. Somehow, it's better that way because it forces Noctis to step into whatever awaits him under his own volition. And even though the choice is totally an illusion, it makes him feel a little better.
Pushing the door open, he steps into his father's chambers. When Ignis moves to step in behind, Noctis turns and shakes his head. This is something he has to do alone.
"..I should— Specs ," He pleads helplessly.
Ignis knows what Noctis is trying to say. Something like pride but even more like heartbreak flickers in his eyes. For a fraction of a second, Ignis' mouth tightens, then he inclines his head in graceful deference as he steps back into the passage to wait.
Truthfully, Noctis wants Ignis to come back, but this feels too big. It feels like something is about to change forever, and Noctis dreads it.
Stepping forward, he shuts the secret door behind him.
No one is in the reception room, so Noct creeps through the King's formal chamber rooms like a ghost until he notes that the door to the private office is ajar. When he peeks through the narrow opening, he spots his father sitting silently behind the large, cluttered desk.
His Dad looks… Tired . Bone tired and weary in a way that Noctis has never seen before. Bowed where he sits, Regis Lucis Caelum rests his face in his upturned hands like a harried salary man at an after-hours bar. Dressed in a crisp suit and full raiment, for the first time in Noct's life, he realizes how small his father seems under the weight of his mantle. Eyes welling with sudden tears, Noctis swallows his fear and taps on the door.
"…Dad?"
Startled, Regis glances up. He lists to the side, and his eyes meet Noct's through the narrow gap in the door. The expression on his face is troubled but softens as Noctis comes through and takes a seat.
"Hello, Noct," Regis greets gently.
It doesn't go unnoticed that he doesn't rise to meet his son with a hug or some other gesture of affection, which means this is Official Business. Noctis figured as much, but it still makes his insides twist with unease. Somehow, he finds it in himself to sit up straight and lower his shoulders while he waits for the blow to hit.
His father's face crumples a little, and then he sits up and fixes his stooped posture. Regis pulls in a long breath, a clear indication that he's trying to order his words, and then he meets Noct's gaze with tired, tired eyes.
"As I'm sure you know, we have been hosting a foreign diplomat these past few days. The man in question is Chancellor Ardyn Izunia of Niflheim." Regis explains.
Noctis sucks in a sharp breath. Niflheim? Shit . The situation with them has been…Well. Not good. The war isn't going well, at least on the Lucian front. Noctis knows that if the Emperor sent a Chancellor, the situation must be deteriorating rapidly. Sure, he and Ignis have been updated on things periodically, but even as the Crown Prince, Noct hasn't been privy to every detail.
"What happened?" He presses, dreading the answer.
Regis' frown deepens. "An agreement was made for the sake of peace between our nations. It…It isn't what I would have hoped for, Noct. But I hope you can understand our position and accept it for the sake of the people of Lucis," He explains, voice quiet.
Right. Okay. Not good.
"An alliance was proposed as a stipulation of the peace treaty. And while I always hoped you would have the freedom to marry for love, the outcome in this case could have been far worse," Regis continues. "I know you and Lady Lunafreya are close and not without affection for one another. The union will bring her here and out of harm's way if nothing else."
A rush of something hot and simultaneously cold sweeps through Noct's body, and he can't quite process what his father said. Marriage? To Luna ? Noctis' chest heaves, and a thunderous rush pulses through his ears. Distantly, he realizes he's panicking, and the sound he's hearing is the rapid fire of his own pulse crashing through like a tidal wave. Noctis doesn't even notice when his Dad gets up but startles when a hand touches his own.
"I truly am sorry, Child. I know this isn't what you wanted," Regis says gently as he kneels with great difficulty at Noctis' side.
Sudden, itchy tears well up, but Noct fights against them. He can't—his Dad is... If there's no war, then there's no need for the wall, and maybe it'll lessen the strain of the magic. Perhaps it'll stave off the inevitable for just a few more years.
"..It will end the war, though, right?" Noct asks, hating how small he sounds.
The lines etched into his father's face deepen as his expression crumbles with anguish. He nods slowly, and his hands tighten on Noct's.
"If Chancellor Izunia is to be believed, then yes."
That settles it, then. Noctis won't fight it. He couldn't even if he wanted to. If it'll end the war, then what choice does he have? And…And it's Luna . Not a total stranger, thank Six. If it takes a marriage to bring her to Insomnia, to keep her safe and away from the Empire, then... Then, the only choice Noctis has is to go through with it. He's known for years now that, eventually, the council would insist on his taking a bride to ensure the royal line of Lucis. Honestly, he just kind of hoped that, well… Well, it doesn't make a difference now what he hoped for.
Bowing his head, Noctis nods. "...How long do I have?"
"A special council will be called tomorrow, and you will be informed of your duties. I expect a formal statement will be made by Monday next week, and the planning will commence directly afterward." Regis replies, his voice thick. "I wished to relay the news in person so you were not bombarded."
Noctis swallows thickly. Monday is only a few days away. After that, the world will know. Six . It's too damned soon. And what about the actual wedding? Vaguely, Noct recalls something about the traditions of royal engagements and marriages. There's something... He's sure something about the customs give him some time, but...
"But what about the wedding?"
Regis bows forward. His forehead briefly touches Noctis' knee, then he sighs. "Five months, maybe? That may be as long as I can reasonably hold out citing Lucian standards. Lady Lunafreya might be able to buy us all a bit longer if she plays at being the persnickety bride. "
Right. Five months. It seems way too soon, rushed , even. Granted, Noct wasn't around for his Mom and Dad's wedding, and he has no cousins or other living relatives, but five months seems wrong- at least for Royal Nuptials, anyway.
Noctis nods despite his misgivings. Suddenly, it's all too much, and he feels like a kid again, with the world spiraling out of control. Squeezing his Dad's hand, Noctis knows there's nothing either of them can do to stop this. As King, Regis must do what is best for the whole of Lucis, and Noct must meet it head-on with all the grace and aplomb he can muster.
Reaching out, Noct sets his palm into his father's silver hair. It's surprisingly soft, just as it's always been, though the color has faded. "It's okay. I know you did your best. I'm not angry with you, Dad. If it means the end of the war, then it's okay. I promise."
Regis glances upright, stunned. For a moment, Noct sees past the lines of worry etched on his face to the young man wanting to do right by his child. He reaches up, and the heat of his weathered hands is warm against Noct's cheek.
"Oh, my sweet boy. When did you become such a fine man?" Regis asks, voice hushed and thick with emotion.
Tears sting Noct's eyes, and he looks aside. He doesn't want to cry in front of his Dad, but it's a close thing. He desperately wants a hug, though, and the tiny, distressed sound he makes says as much. His Dad clambers upright, ungainly and awkward, and then Noct finds himself pulled up from the chair into a tight, squeezing hug.
Burying his face in the front of his Dad's shirt, Noct pulls in a long, shuddering breath and gets a noseful of cologne. It's funny how just that is enough to reduce Noct to a sniffling mess, but he manfully breathes through it and returns the embrace.
Even under all the layers of clothes, he can feel how his Dad has lost muscle and weight. Noct wants to stay here like this, forever, the rest of the world be damned, but a sharp tap on the door alerts him they are not alone. Biting his lip, Noctis reluctantly steps away and bows his head to hide from whoever is at the door. His father briefly sets a palm to Noct's cheek, kisses his forehead, and then turns toward the door.
"Enter," Regis says wearily.
It isn't Cor who comes in, but Clarus. His expression is stern but not without compassion as he glances in Noct's direction. "Apologies, Reg, but you're being called to Chambers again."
Regis nods, but his heart isn't in it. Somehow, the indomitable rock of a King ready to crush any enemy in his path is gone, leaving just a weary old man. He looks so beaten down, and it breaks Noctis' heart.
"..I can... I can stay. If you want any help?" Noct offers, unsure of himself.
His Dad's smile is a little sad but so very affectionate. He gives Noct's arm a squeeze. "No, my boy. You'll have your time soon enough. Let me take care of you while I can."
Noctis draws in a careful breath, afraid he'll spill over. Nodding, he darts forward and gives his Dad one last hug. Then he steps away and squares his shoulders, forcing himself to stand tall despite how his stomach clenches and shivers with distress. It takes Noct a moment to gather himself, and then he dips in a brief, courtly bow. His father nods.
Knowing he's dismissed, Noct heads for the door. As he passes, however, he catches Clarus' eyes. The Old Shield's expression is sympathetic but full of pride.
"Be gentle with your Retainers," Clarus advises solemnly.
Nodding, Noctis makes his exit. When he gets to the hidden door, he pauses. Ignis and Cor await on the other side, and suddenly, it seems so overwhelming. He has no idea what he'll say to Ignis or Gladio, for that matter. Clarus' words stick in his brain, making the lump in his throat rise again. How... How is he supposed to tell them? Six . And Ignis must be worried sick by now.
Pressing his head against the hidden door, Noctis draws in a shaky breath. He won't be able to lie to Iggy. Even if he wanted, Noct just can't. This is all too big for that. There are too many feelings involved. Cursing softly, Noct thumps his forehead against the wooden paneling. He'll never be ready for this, so he opts to dive into it and slaps the hidden catch to open the door.
It swings open, revealing a grim-faced Cor and a distressed Ignis. Sure, his expression is passive enough, but the slight twitch when he hurriedly takes in the state of Noct's face is telling for one who knows him so well. Noctis doesn't have to say anything, not yet, because Ignis reads him like a book and knows it's too much. He knows that if he questions it, Noct won't be able to reel himself back in and will break where he stands.
"Marshal, if you would have a Page collect our things from the training hall and meet me in the garage, that would be most helpful," Ignis says politely, hiding behind his mask of decorum.
Cor nods in deference. He glances briefly in Noct's direction, sympathetic and silent. For a moment, it looks like he might reach out and pull Noct into a hug, as he was prone to when Noct was younger. Instead, he turns to disappear through the maze of secret passages. Once he's gone, Ignis slides his palm between Noct's shoulder blades to usher him along.
"Let's get you home, and we can untangle it there," Ignis says kindly.
Noctis can only nod dumbly.
Together, they make their way through the twisting maze. The trip is a bit of a blur, but Ignis knows these passages almost as well as Cor, no thanks to several misadventures from their youth. They pop out somewhere near the ground floor, in the private section of the Citadel, well away from the hustle and bustle of the various employees and public galleries.
Ignis steers Noct toward the entrance to the garage, where a Page hovers anxiously by the door, holding their belongings. For a second, Noctis is a little annoyed by the presence of a stranger but is glad when he realizes Cor could've sent Prompto instead. As much as Noctis adores his friend, he does not have the wherewithal for it right now. Thankfully, Ignis takes care of the Page, gathers their training bags, and together, they head for the car.
After that, the world muddles all together. Noctis doesn't even realize they've made it to his apartment until he looks up and sees the familiar blocky script indicating they're in his allotted spot in the parking garage. He doesn't even know he's panicking and having a godsdamned anxiety attack until Ignis slams the car into park and rushes to open Noct's door to kneel beside him on the concrete.
" Breathe , Noct," Ignis instructs gently.
Whining, Noctis bends forward and drops his head on the dashboard. Everything is so loud and hurts .
" Iggy ," Noct pleads, desperate.
"Come, let's get you inside. I can help you better there," Ignis replies soft and urgent.
Noct wants to; he really does, but it takes Ignis carefully tugging his legs out of the car to get Noct moving. His hands are clumsy and uncoordinated with the buckle, and Ignis has to help with that, too. Somehow , they get inside and up to Noct's apartment without much trouble.
Ignis takes him directly to the couch, and once Noct is on it, he puts his head in his hands, trying to concentrate on the stupid breathing exercise he was taught to help manage stress. It doesn't help much, but the spots recede from his vision after a moment. Ignis, whom Noct didn't even notice leave, returns with a glass of water and the rarely-used bottle of anxiety meds kept on hand for emergencies.
Honestly, Noctis can't even remember the last time he needed them—probably back when he was still having nightmares about the Marilith. Holding out his hands gratefully, Noct waits while Ignis pops the cap. He takes the pill and chugs half the glass of water quickly. It'll be a while before it kicks in, but knowing it's in his system is enough to ease some of the crushing dread.
Sitting back on the couch, Noctis presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and focuses on the easy cadence of Ignis' four counts for breathing. It feels like it takes impossibly long for his heart to stop hammering and the sharp edges of panic to soften. When it finally does, Noctis feels wrung out, like he just went seven rounds with Ignis and Gladio in the training hall.
"Better?" Ignis asks quietly.
Noctis hums in response, not trusting himself to speak quite yet. He sits so long that Ignis eventually bundles Noct into his arms and settles them on the couch, lying front to back. It's not enough, so Noctis wriggles around until he can push his face into the hollow of Ignis' throat and muckles on as tight as he can. Iggy's palm is warm on his back, and he soothes Noct with soft little sounds.
It takes a while, but the thundering in Noctis' chest finally calms. He can feel the effect of the medication slowly working through him and is thankful that it takes the edge off. He can think a little clearer now, but he still has no idea what the hell he's supposed to say to Ignis, who is patiently and faithfully tending to his Prince and putting his own needs on the back burner.
Be gentle with your Retainers.
As much as Noctis wants to believe his private matters are, well, private , he suspects maybe those close to him know more than they let on. Or maybe it's just that Clarus knows his son far too well for there to be secrets. It isn't, though. A secret. It just…Well, is . Between himself and Gladio as much as it is between him and Ignis. And, for as much as Noctis tries to convince himself that an impending marriage won't change anything…He knows it will.
"Iggy. We have to talk," Noct blurts, needing to get it out before he loses his nerve.
Ignis tenses, and he nods minutely. Thankfully, he doesn't say much, and Noctis is glad because if Ignis does, Noct will crumble.
"They…The diplomat. The one who arrived secretly? He's from Niflheim. He brought terms for peace." Noctis explains haltingly, breathing through the sting of tears in his eyes. "One of the terms was an alliance by marriage and— I couldn't say no, you know? Not when it'll keep Luna safe, end the war, and save so many people. Not when it might help take some of the burden off Dad having to use the crystal so much. And so... So I'm going to marry Luna like they want. They'll announce it on Monday."
Ignis pulls in a sharp breath. His body goes rigid as it all sinks in. "Oh, Noct ," He whispers at length. Tucking Noctis closer, Ignis pets his long fingers through the dark hair at the back of Noct's skull.
They both knew this would happen eventually.
Lucian customs aside, what this marriage might mean terrifies Noctis. He can't lose Ignis or Gladio, either. Noctis won't give them up, come hell or high water. Of course, Ignis, sensing the crux of the matter, dips to kiss Noct's forehead.
"This does not change my feelings for you or my position. I swore myself to you in every sense of the word, and I intend to uphold all my vows," Ignis says firmly. "I know you and Lady Lunafreya are close, and you have spoken in depth about...These things. The Nox Fluerets have been linked to the Caelums for generations. It is doubtful she will take offense when your houses share similar customs."
Noctis wants to argue, though. Luna isn't the problem. What about when his father dies? What about when Noctis is crowned King? What about when it's expected that he further the line of Lucis Caelum? What about when he inevitably has to become a father and starts to wither under the burden of the crystal and the six-damned prophecy?
Traditions and customs can be changed and abolished if an advantageous council member deems them unfit. Anyone engaging in them could also be found unfit, especially if the customs hinder Lucian prosperity. Noctis would be relatively safe, as would Gladio, thanks to the Amicitia legacy. Ignis, despite being from a noble house, would be the first on the chopping block, however, because he was never supposed to be Noct's to begin with.
Ignis was a happy accident after Cor sent a long list of would-be candidates packing when Noct was three years old. The council has never been happy about it and takes great pleasure in reminding Noct and Ignis every chance they get.
If they come for Iggy, there's no doubt they'll come for Prompto, too, even if the nature of his relationship with Noct isn't as... Intimate . The council has never been shy about voicing their negative opinions about Noctis and his choices, and the thought of having Gladio, Ignis, or Prompto barred from his life is too much to bear.
Drawing in a ragged breath, Noctis feels his body start to quiver and tremble.
"Noctis. Shh. Shh, it's all right, Dear Heart," Ignis croons, voice strained.
"It's not okay, Iggy," Noct replies, getting worked up again. "None of this is okay."
Ignis releases a soft, distressed sound. He draws Noctis closer, simply holding him. Dragging in a shuddering breath, Noct tries to focus on the feel of Ignis' hands in his hair and the soft, subtle sound of his breathing. There's a ragged edge to it that gives Ignis away, but there's no acknowledgment on his behalf that he's crumbling under the weight of this just as much as Noctis is.
He's a better man than Noct.
Or maybe it's just that Ignis is better at separating himself and his needs from his emotions and prioritizing his duty to the crown.
It sucks .
Grappling onto Ignis' shirt, Noctis presses salty kisses into the warmth of Ignis' skin, trying to convey what the words trapped in his throat can't. When that isn't enough, Noctis goes for Ignis' mouth, bullying him into an awkward kiss. And while Ignis complies, it's begrudging, Like he knows Noct just wants to forget . Gently, kindly, Ignis eases away. His lips are soft as he drags them over Noctis' nose and brow, comforting with the depth of his affection rather than a hasty, knee-jerk reaction to jam their bodies together.
It makes Noct feel guilty all over again.
But Ignis, perfect, amazing Ignis, simply takes it in stride. He knows Noctis well enough that he's not offended. He holds Noct close, whispering soft, soothing sounds into his ear and nuzzling close. It's a while before the thready, staccato beat of Noct's heart stops thumping in his ears, thanks in part to the medication. Lulled by the drag of Ignis' lips across his brow, Noct sighs and wheedles closer.
They remain like that, drifting for a time until the front door bursts open. The familiar sound of Gladio's steady gait echoes down the hall, bringing with it a fresh wave of tears. Sniffling, Noct hides his face against Ignis' chest.
"We're in here," Ignis calls softly.
A moment passes as Gladio approaches. Then Noct hears the soft susurrus of leather as Gladio kneels and pushes his big hand into Noct's hair. The urge to hide away is there, but Noctis knows he can't hide from him forever. Besides, with the harsh rasp of Gladio's breathing, Noct suspects he knows. Pulling away from Ignis, Noct sits up and throws his arms around Gladio's neck.
Gladio catches Noct easily, almost as if he expected it. He doesn't flinch or stumble in the slightest as Noct slings his legs around Gladio's middle. There's a soft grunt, and then Gladio gets his big arms under Noctis and scoops him up off the floor.
"Couch isn't big enough for the three of us," Gladio observes gruffly.
Noct, tucking his head against Gladio's shoulder, grumbles. "Bed," He orders.
Noctis can practically hear Gladio roll his eyes. Still, he turns and heads down the hall. Comforted by the familiar spicy smell of Gladio's cologne, Noct tucks close and refuses to be embarrassed about being carted around like furniture.
Ignis isn't far behind, and together, they make themselves comfy in the softness of Noctis' bed. Ignis slides in at the back, his lips warm against the nape of Noctis' neck. Gladio, at the front, buries his nose in Noctis' hair and sighs. The comfort of closeness is almost more than Noctis can bear, not when he keeps thinking about how all this might be taken from him. Pulling both Gladio and Ignis as close as he can possibly get them, Noctis shivers and clings to them.
"Dad told me what happened more or less," Gladio says at length. "Told him I was leaving to come be with you."
"I don't want to talk about it right now," Noctis counters. Sure, it's a relief that he doesn't have to flay himself apart, rehashing the gory details again, but it hurts too much to think about.
Noctis also doesn't need the look that Ignis and Gladio are undoubtedly trading. Tipping his head up, he nips sharply at Gladio's jaw, which earns him a hiss and a sharp jab in the ribs.
"Cut it out," Gladio orders, gentle but to the point. "I wasn't trying to make you talk about it now. We are going to have to talk about it eventually, though. This isn't something we can just ignore."
We.
Be gentle with your Retainers.
Noct bites furiously at his lower lip, hating the lump in his throat and how his insides quake. He utterly loathes, feeling out of control. Sure, Gladio and Ignis are here to keep Noct tethered, but if there is one constant in his life, it's that his life is not his own. Today is just another assertion of that fact.
"I don't want to lose you," Noctis whispers. "I can't—I can't do any of this without either of you."
"You can ," Gladio affirms simply. Wriggling a little to get more comfortable, he presses his forehead to Noct's, and the honey-gold of his eyes is bright and intense as he pins Noctis with a burning look. "You're stronger than you realize. But you're not gonna lose us. Iggy'd die before he gave you up, and the same goes for me. Things might change a little, but you'll always have us. Always, Noct."
Heat burns through Noct's chest. He isn't stupid. He knows what the feeling that thrums beneath his breastbone is. It's too big for words, though. Honestly, even if the words were there, they'd just get all jumbled up and trapped in his throat. Making a soft, overwrought sound, Noctis seeks Gladio's mouth out with his own, hoping to communicate the depth of the feeling that way.
Like Ignis, Gladio tempers Noct's fire by gentling the kiss and keeping it sweet and brief. Because for as much as Noct doesn't want to think, he'd be doing them all a disservice by making this about sex. He's suddenly glad Ignis and Gladio know him so well, frustrating as it is. Instead, Ignis smoothes this palm along Noctis' hip while nosing into the back of his head, while Gladio's big palm runs over Noct's ribs.
It's easy to just be with both of them here like this. To fall into the comfort of their presence and process the tangle of emotion at his own pace. Well, for a while, anyhow. The effects of the medication are taking a toll, and Noct feels lethargy tugging at him.
"We ought to figure out what to do about Blondie. He's gonna take this wedding thing hard," Gladio says after a while. His lips are warm against Noct's forehead, but he's speaking to Ignis.
Ignis hums, and his palm skates along Noct's side until he finds Gladio's hand. The touch is light, and sleepy as he is, Noctis feels the way their fingers twine together. A circuit made nearly whole.
"I believe that matter is up to Noct to decide. Though we would be foolish to think these current developments won't affect any decision on that front," Ignis replies, voice soft. "My stance on the Prompto matter is the same as ever."
Gladio huffs a little at that. His hand squeezes Ignis'. "Same. It's not like Charmless here needs our blessing, though. Or us his. Not when it comes to Prom."
"True," Ignis agrees. "But he likes the idea of a unified front. And if either of us were to try talking to Prompto, I fear we'd scare him off. You know how he is. It should be Noct who broaches the topic."
Iggy is right about Noct wanting it to be a mutual decision, but there's more to it than that. Noctis wants to say that everything works better when it's the four of them. Sure, it's good otherwise, but Prom…He completes their little family in a way that Noct can't quite articulate, and he knows the other two feel it. The only reason he hasn't brought it up with Prompto yet is…Well. It's Prompto , and Noctis isn't sure how he'll take it.
That Prompto isn't part of the peerage has never mattered, not to Noct and certainly not to Gladio or Ignis. But it's always been a tender point between them, if only because of how outsiders perceive a working-class citizen being close to the Prince.
That being said, while accepted by the citizenry, certain traditions amongst the Royal Lucian line only highlight the difference in social status. As Prince and eventually King, Noct is theoretically permitted to maintain close, intimate relationships with his Retainers independent of a spouse.
The media has always speculated quite openly about it, especially after Prompto was formally recognized as part of Noct's entourage. Having the paparazzi hound him about the nature of his relationship with Prompto was almost more than Noct could take because it sent Prompto into a spiral for weeks . Especially when they bombarded Prom after his classes one night to demand he tell them what it was like to be a foreigner, a Niff , who was in a close relationship with the Prince.
Now, this thing with the treaty, Luna, and a marriage?
What a fucking mess. Prompto is...Ugh. He is not going to take it well. But of course, Noct doesn't say any of this. The words get trapped in his throat the second he tries, so he buries his face into the deliciously solid muscle of Gladio's chest instead.
"'Heb'longs together withus," Noctis mumbles, his voice sleepy and slurred from the medication. "Isn't whole without."
Thankfully, both Ignis and Gladio are adept at speaking Sleepy Noct. Ignis smiles against the back of Noct's head and kisses him there.
"Yes, my sentiments exactly," Ignis agrees. "But sleep now, Dear Heart. We can tackle that later."
Noctis hums in response, feeling himself drift away. The whole tangled mess of the day will still be here when he wakes, but at least it isn't a crushing weight on his chest anymore. Wriggling to get more comfortable, Noctis drifts off, pinioned safely between Gladio and Ignis.